


How Things Are

by dustyfluorescent



Series: Not Holding Your Hand [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 21:00:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustyfluorescent/pseuds/dustyfluorescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I would have been yours for all my life, but I will not stay to be yours to use as you please.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	How Things Are

_and in the end  
we lie awake and dream of making our escape_

Merlin knows he is a blithering idiot, he is fully aware of that, thank you very much. Acknowledging it doesn't change the fact that he keeps acting like one. He really should do something about that, though, he thinks to himself as he quickly dresses, glancing at Arthur who's lying in the rumpled bed, sleeping. Another stupid thing. Merlin will never learn.

It's about six in the morning, but Merlin couldn't care less. He's going to Gwaine's and that's that, and if Gwaine's got a problem with that then that's just very tragic. Merlin doesn't want to be alone now, and he sure as hell isn't staying at Arthur's. Gwen would kill him, and he's really way too tired for that now. And since Elyan, Gwaine's roommate, is visiting his parents for a few weeks, it's fine. He's tired, he's sad, and he's fucking mad at his own stupid self. He needs someone now.

The morning is cold and grey as Merlin quietly slips through the front door and lights a cigarette with shaking hands. How stupid of him, _idiotic_ , to think he could just fuck Arthur once (well, maybe this counts as twice) and be done with it, just not bothering anymore, not feeling anything at all. It's been four months since he saw him last, and he had thought he could finally confront him without getting overly emotional, without getting too angry, and most importantly, without remembering how much Arthur used to mean to him. How much he still does.

Either way, it's done now, and he didn't realise what all of this means to him before now, because he's a fucking idiot. He had met with Arthur, agreed to talk to him or at least hear what he had to say, and somehow, they had ended up fucking in Arthur's flat, with the intention of making up for all the time they had lost. They hadn't, not quite, but the sex is still as good as it was back then, and Merlin realises that he probably shouldn't have reminded himself of that. He is very aware of the fact that he shouldn't get involved with Arthur again, that it is a very stupid idea, and that he will just end up getting hurt. But he is in love, he has been since day one, and it still hasn't changed. Meeting Arthur, and sleeping with him (how was he so _fucking stupid_ , Gwaine is going to _cry_ because Merlin has clearly lost the ability to use his brain for thinking), is perfectly enough to make him realise he isn't over Arthur, not even close. But he is still so angry at him it sometimes makes it hard to breathe. They could have had so much, and Arthur ruined it, and now they can't ever have anything because Arthur is so sorry and Merlin is so angry and still scared.

 _I would have been yours for all my life, but I will not stay to be yours to use as you please._

He hasn't slept. Instead, he has finally talked to Arthur. He has cried against Arthur's shoulder, sat in his car and stroked his thigh in a very inappropriate manner, and visited his apartment for the first time. Apparently, Arthur is relatively wealthy (it's not like he didn't that already, but shit, that place is _posh_ ) and very neat. He has been stupid and reckless and irresponsible, because he apparently isn't quite as grown-up as he'd like to think.

Merlin had fucked Arthut on his sofa (that's probably very expensive and also impossible to clean), sucked him off in the kitchen, and then made himself tea while Arthur had showered. We're not fucking _dating_ , he had snapped when Arthur had asked him to join. So Arthur had left him, and Merlin had tried to calm down. This is a one-off thing, and I'm not going back to him, not really, he had thought to himself, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to resist the urge to follow Arthur, after all. I'm not going back to him, and I don't want to miss him.

 _I love kissing you in the shower._

When Arthur had come back to the kitchen, drying his hair and humming like he'd gone mad, Merlin had been leaning against the counter, with a teacup in his hands. The naked Adonis in the doorway had smiled at him and asked whether he'd be up for another round. He had been.

They had spent a good while trying to drive each other absolutely insane with hands and tongues and _stuff_ , and actually managing that quite nicely. Then Merlin had fucked Arthur very thoroughly, and it had all been very lovely.

After getting his breath back again, Merlin had noticed Arthur had fallen asleep (or passed out; he had smirked in spite of himself). Absently stroking Arthur's arm, he had stared at his tousled hair, swollen lips, and bruised neck; smiled at how Arthur still pouted in his sleep; realised how ridiculously young and innocent he looked while sleeping. Then he had remembered that this man had hit him, and that he probably would do again if he'd only let him.

So he'd left before he would make things worse.

He hadn't left a note. He had deleted his own number from Arthur's phone. He had made sure he had had all his things; he wouldn't be going back for a t-shirt or a lighter. He had looked at the adorable, well-shagged, _wonderful_ little thing in the bed, tangled in the sheets, breathing calmly, completely unaware of the emotional turmoil going on in Merlin's head. For a second, Merlin had thought that he could just make Arthur _not remember him_ , and all of this would be over. Then he had walked away, hating himself for even considering.

 _I still have your number in my phone. It's not like I'm going to call. Just in case._

Merlin has keys to Gwaine and Elyan's flat, so he simply walks in and sumps onto the sofa and draws a shaky breath. He suddenly realises how tired he is. He's tried his best to be quiet, but Gwaine wakes up anyway. He stumbles out of his bedroom, still half asleep, wearing nothing but boxers, and his hair looks absolutely flawless.

"What the fuck, Emrys?" he groans. "It's fucking six am!"

"Yeah, sorry," Merlin mutters. "I just didn't want to be alone."

"Rough night?"

"Oh, yes."

Gwaine frowns. "Wait," he orders. "I'll make coffee. Then, we talk."

Merlin shrugs, staring at the ceiling. He doesn't want to go anywhere, he needs something with caffeine in it since he has work later, and talking to Gwaine always helps. He needs to get it out.

"I saw Arthur last night," Merlin says, when they're sitting on the sofa, holding steaming cups of coffee. Gwaine frowns.

"You idiot," he says, and Merlin laughs.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it, my friend."

"You _idiot_."

"I went home with him," Merlin says, looking away.

"You didn't."

"Yeah, I did. We fucked. And that was bloody stupid, but I can't help it. I don't want to not ever see him again."

Gwaine sighs, and puts down his coffee. "Oh, Merlin."

"What," Merlin snaps, because he doesn't want to hear that. Not that tone of voice, not like that, not like it's _Arthur's_ fault he can't let go, like he's been _used_. He might be emotionally unstable since forever, and he obviously is in love with the wrong guy, but he is perfectly capable of making his own decisions. And fucking Arthur was just that, a decision _he_ made, although maybe not a smart one. Okay, definitely not a smart one. But he doesn't regret it.

"I really don't know what to do with you anymore."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't do anything. Maybe you should let me live my own life."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Merlin?" Gwaine hisses. "Haven't you fucked up your life often enough already? Couldn't you for once just _listen_?"

Merlin gives Gwaine a look. He isn't quite sure what kind of look it is, but he's pretty sure he gets the point across: he is tired, he is emotional, he is definitely on edge. And Gwaine is holding a hand on his shoulder and telling him to _jump_ , even though he probably means the opposite. Merlin's hurt, mostly because Gwaine is right, but also because he wasn't there before, he was _never there_ , he didn't exist back then, he never saw any of it, and now he is going to tell him what to do, and he _does not have the right_.

"Seriously?" he asks. "Trying to save me now, Gwaine? Hell, since when have you been a bloody knight in shining armour? Doesn't suit you."

"I care about you."

Merlin sighs. "I know you do. But I've already fucked up my life. Might as well enjoy it."

"Are you?"

Merlin looks away. The clock on the wall has stopped months ago, but Gwaine and Elyan can't agree on which one of them should do something about it, and so nothing's been done. Merlin bites his lip and shrugs, because he isn't enjoying it - this - whatever. It's been four months since things ended between Arthur and him, and by that time they hadn't even known each other for that long. Merlin can't stop thinking about Arthur, though. He had thought he'd be ready to just meet with him and tell him that they're done, because Arthur keeps calling and texting and e-mailing and sending friend requests on Facebook, but he wasn't done yet. He still isn't. So he has got to keep away.

"Why are you torturing yourself, Ems?"

"Don't call me that, it sounds like a girl's name."

"You secretly love it, and Merlin is the name of an old, bearded wizard, so you really have no room to complain."

"I like my name."

"You're changing the subject."

"I don't like this one."

"But you came here because you wanted to talk about it."

"Yes, _talk_ , not listen to a bloody _lecture_."

"Fine, _fine_ , calm your tits, you maniac!"

"Shit, you're annoying."

Gwaine smiles. "My best feature. Now, _talk_."

Merlin sighs, rolling his eyes, and talks.

 _I would like to tell him that I hate you, but I would have to lie._

***

Gwaine sends Merlin off with an awkward hug, a sandwich he made himself, and a laugh. Merlin smiles at him before walking away. Gwaine closes the door, bangs his forehead against it once, twice, and slumps onto the floor, laughing. He's a bit hysterical, his heart is beating a bit too fast, and _this_ is more than a bit weird.

He hasn't really realised it before (or maybe he has just refused to acknowledge it until recently). It's unbelievable, really, that he's been so blind. Now that the thinks about it, it's obvious he's liked Merlin since day one, and not like a friend, nor like a brother. _Definitely_ not like a brother. He probably just never thought about that being possible, since he's always been pretty exclusively into girls, but realising it sure as hell explains a lot of stuff. Merlin's nothing like anyone he's been interested in before. Merlin is nothing like anybody ever. Merlin is unbelievable, and Gwaine doesn't really know what it is about him, but he can't stop looking. He can't stop wanting to keep him safe, make him fine again, make him alive again. Merlin - right now, these days - is hollow and lifeless, desperate and miserable, in love and well aware that it's not good for him. And this morning, he was more so than Gwaine's got used to.

Gwaine would really like to kill Arthur Pendragon for what he's done to his Ems. Not because he wants him for himself (that he would like that doesn't mean he would ever do anything about it), but because Merlin is _not fine_. Merlin looks like a ghost, and his smiles that used to light up any room don't even reach his eyes anymore. Merlin is not doing well, and all he talks about is Arthur.

Gwaine doesn't bother doing anything useful all day. He's been struck a bit breathless by his revelation, as stupid as it sounds, so he just walks around his flat, and thinks about calling Leon. Leon hasn't known Merlin that long, and Merlin never really enjoyed his company because of certain Arthur related issues, so he probably wouldn't tell Merlin anything. And he hates Arthur, too, so they could bash him together for hours on end. That could be nice. Maybe, later on, he'll call Leon, and ask if he'd like to come over. They could order Chinese food, drink beer, and rent a gory action movie with enough boobs to distract Gwaine from his latent homosexual feelings for his friend. The very same friend who always comes to him when someone breaks his heart, the one who thinks of him as the brother he never had. Hell, the amount of boobs he's going to need would probably be enough to make Leon forget he's gay, and has an extremely hot boyfriend.

Gwaine groans and makes himself more coffee. He needs to watch some porn.

***

When Arthur wakes up after sleeping for just a few hours, aching all over but all in all, fairly content, it takes him a while to notice that Merlin's left. _He doesn't want me_ , is his first thought, and the second one never comes. Then he gets up and walks through the apartment. He can't find a note or anything at all that has something to do with Merlin. He's even washed the teacup he was using. Arthur checks his mobile, but there are no messages. He thinks about calling, but decides against it. He goes back to bed and buries his face in one of the pillows, but it doesn't smell like Merlin.

He's not quite sure what he expected, but whether he wanted it or not, he's disappointed. Merlin's left again, and he can't help but fear that it's for the last time. He can still almost feel Merlin inside him.

He's crying when he falls asleep again. At first, his dreams are restless and after that, he can't remember. It's dark when he opens his eyes again. The bed smells like sex, but the stuffy air in the room feels like rejection. Arthur isn't tired anymore, but he doesn't bother getting up.

Days pass in a haze, one by one, until Arthur stops counting. He doesn't eat much (and when he does it's the kind of rubbish he'd normally never allow himself to eat on a daily basis, like pot noodles or pizza). He doesn't leave his apartment except to buy alcohol. He can't sleep at night, and he's awfully exhausted by day. When his father calls him and tells him he'll have no problem firing his own son if he doesn't start showing up at work again, he hangs up without saying a word. After that, he doesn't answer a single call, because none of them are Merlin.

Merlin never calls. One day, though, he's just there.

***

Knowing that he's an idiot never helped Merlin. He realises it, and it makes things difficult. _I should not do this_ , he thinks to himself; _this is just another very bad idea, things will get ugly and I will get hurt_. And then he goes fuck it and does stupid things anyway.

Standing in the hall of Arthur's flat, looking around and just waiting, he knows what he's signing up for. Stupid, yes, but he has no choice. Every single day has been a struggle, and not just for this one pathetic week, but every single day ever since that day four months ago. Maybe he doesn't want to live, maybe he doesn't care, but he needs Arthur, wants him, _fucking loves him_ , and how do you make that stop?

You don't.

 _I can't make it stop, and you're to blame._

Merlin decides that the best way to go is to help himself in. Arthur doesn't expect him since he hasn't even got a key, and that makes him feel a bit more safe. Not at all less stupid, mind you.

At first, he's sure Arthur's out. The flat is quiet and feels abandoned, and somehow a little bit threatening. Hostile. It's just his guilt giving him a hard time, Merlin assures himself. He's being stupid and acting against his better judgement, and he just broke into Arthur's flat. It's no use standing in the hall, he decides after just holding his breath and listening for a good while. He walks to the living room and sits on the sofa. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down. Arthur will come, and Merlin isn't going to back out now. He has no idea what exactly he thinks he's doing, though.

When Arthur emerges from his bedroom (looking like shit, for fuck's sake; Merlin doesn't want to know why his Arthur seems like he'd be better of dead), the look on his face tells he's not heard Merlin come in.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"I needed to see you," Merlin says quietly, and swallows. "I missed you."

Arthur bites his lip and runs his fingers through his hair.

"What the fuck, Emrys," he mutters, and slumps on the sofa next to Merlin. He doesn't sound mad, or agitated, or much anything at all. Just tired. Merlin suddenly feels guilty about all this. "What the fuck are you doing to me?"

"I don't know," he says, because _sorry_ is still a word too big. He may love Arthur more than is completely healthy, especially given the circumstances, but he won't apologise.

 _It was just one time_ , a determined voice inside his head tells him. _Look at this guy, he is broken. You did this to him. He loves you and he can't forgive himself, just take a breath and let your ridiculous pride go for a bit and_ look _at what you've done to him._

Merlin doesn't look. He rests his head on Arthur's shoulder with a sigh, and Arthur doesn't push him away. Arthur takes his hand and laces their fingers together. Merlin gives Arthur's hand a gentle squeeze. It's the closest he's likely to ever get to _sorry_ or _you're forgiven_.

"How did we end up here," Merlin mutters. He doesn't want an answer, and he very probably won't get one, either; they both know perfectly well that neither of them really has one.

"I don't want to lose you," Arthur whispers.

"You won't," Merlin says, and he feels a little sick, because it doesn't feel like a lie. He doesn't want to lose Arthur, and it's as simple as that, really. He doesn't need to leave. He doesn't want that. He has left often enough already, and fat load of good that's been for anybody.

"How can you promise me that?"

Arthur sounds desperate and agitated. Merlin has no idea what Arthur expects him to say. Doesn't matter, he thinks, and realises that he isn't scared. Maybe he never was. He can't remember. Maybe he was never anything but angry; maybe he only ever felt cheated and betrayed, not unsafe. Not threatened. Not abused. Be as it may, though, none of that matters now. There are more important things.

"I miss you every second I'm not with you," Merlin says.

Arthur is very still for a very long time. Then he snuggles closes. He's shaking a bit. Merlin strokes the back of his hand and feels a bit surreal about it. Arthur draws a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry," he says with a small voice.

"It's fine." It isn't. Merlin decides to be blunt instead. "Will you hit me again if I stay?"

"No." Merlin isn't sure what he hears. Hurt, maybe. Not hesitation.

"You hit Leon."

"You're different."

Merlin can't help but laugh. "How am I _different_?"

"I don't know. You just are."

Merlin sighs. "Arthur," he says. "I'm human. I'm not perfect. I'll get annoying, and I'll get on your nerves. And you're still the same. You will lose your temper. We will make mistakes, both of us, and we know that won't do anything good."

"You can't know that," Arthut says, sounding like a kid who's just been told Santa isn't real.

"But I do," Merlin whispers. He doesn't really want to say it, but he feels like someone has to, and Arthur never will. "This isn't a fairy tale, Arthur. People get hurt, even if they love each other."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I know that, love."

Merlin lifts his head and looks Arthur in the eye. He brushes Arthur's lips with his fingers, wondering; strokes the stubble on his cheek. The look in his eyes gives Merlin a painful jolt in his stomach. He can relate. Desperate. Hurt. Lonely. Sad. Deprived something that's almost as important as breathing, and not in a way that's much different. Very, very tired.

They melt into a kiss. Arthur tastes like he's been drinking for days, which is probably the case, and his beard is scratchy, but Merlin doesn't care. His head is buzzing with things he doesn't want to think about now. This is it. They're back together, or something like that, or at least getting there. This isn't a one-off thing anymore, no matter how much Merlin would like to pretend that's the case, but he won't be able to keep away anymore. He's given in one too many times, and even though he knows better, he probably won't going anywhere. Merlin can't help but think that Gwen's going to kill him, and Gwaine will probably never talk to him again (that, or visit his grave), and that he has hurt his friends who know Arthur isn't good for him, who worry about him, and this is _very very very very stupid_ -

Groaning, Merlin takes off his shirt, gives Arthur a hand with his, and then pins him against the sofa. He feels something that is almost touching his magic throbbing in his throat, in his head, behind his eyes, just fucking _everywhere_ , and he's so hard it hurts, and Arthur's eyes are glowing with an unrecognisable sentiment and his breaths are shallow and he swallows and licks his lips.

It's the best sex he's ever had.

***

When Gwaine finds out, he throws his drink in Merlin's face. You're fucked up, Emrys, he says, his voice thick and his eyes empty. When Gwen finds out, she doesn't say anything, although the "fuck you, Merlin" is implied. She looks a little like she did on the day of her dad's funeral. Merlin doesn't tell Percy, because he would tell Leon, and he doesn't want to know what Leon might have to say about all this.

Things stay fairly normal for a while. It's almost like being in a normal relationship, Merlin thinks, and feels extremely weird about it. No girlfriends or boyfriends, no cheating (that Merlin knows of), no abuse, no powerplay, no lying, no illegal activities. So all of that's good, but it's not like they've just met, and the shadow of everything that's happened is hanging over them, no matter what else goes on. But it's fine, really, better than anything Merlin has had before, and for a while, he lets himself believe that maybe this time it could work out.

Two weeks later, Merlin has bruises to hide.

This is nothing, he thinks, as he stares at his reflection in the big mirror in Arthur's bathroom. He's fine, it doesn't hurt that much. Not dangerous. Just some bruising on his upper back and left arm. No blood. No nausea. No dizziness. Nothing serious, nothing to end up in the hospital for.

 _I don't know why I trust you, still._

It could've got out of control, but it hadn't. Merlin had shoved Arthur off with some generous help from his magic, angry and shocked, and Arthur had hit his head on the cupboard. Merlin is half freaked out about it happening at all - for a bit, he'd honestly thought it never would again - and half surprised at how easy it was to end it (and also a bit baffled by the realisation that Arthur didn't notice).

This is what it meant, then, he thinks, when he's lying in bed, cradled in Arthur's arms. He's still in a state of _that won't leave a mark but it hurts anyway_ , trying his best to calm himself down, stroking Arthur's back, breathing in his scent. This is how it is. _I won't leave you_ had meant _I won't let you do that to me again, not without putting up a fight_ ; _I won't hit you_ had meant _your friends won't find out._

After that, now that Merlin has finally stopped pretending, it's not a surprise anymore, and somehow that makes it better. Easier, at least. It's not like this is the first time Merlin's in a similar situation, so it all just kind of settles into a familiar pattern. The only thing he needs to do in order to manage just fine is to adjust his expectations, so that's what he does. He learns to read the signs: where to dodge, when to hit back and when to hide in the toilet and wait it out. He learns how to stop the plate and make it drop right before it would hit him, and without Arthur realising that something is off. Arthur's fists are quick and his strikes well-aimed - it's clear this isn't the first time he's doing something like this - so Merlin slows them down enough to get away, but not enough for Arthur to notice.

They grow to know each other better. They learn each other's favourite foods, taste in music and movies, sleeping patterns and preferred brands of crisps. Arthur knows that Merlin smokes red Marlboros, except when he's drunk and smokes anything but. Merlin knows that Christopher Eccleston is Arthur's favourite Doctor (it's the ears). Merlin wears Arthur's favourite t-shirt to bed just to irritate him. Arthur can't survive a hangover without pizza, and it takes Merlin hours to wake up if he doesn't get any tea. Merlin loves Irn-Bru, but thinks that the diet version is an abomination. Arthur hates James Bond. Merlin loves football. Arthur has every episode of Friends on DVD. Merlin thinks Guinness is disgusting, partly because of work related reasons, but also because it tastes like goblin piss. Arthur thinks it's weird that Merlin doesn't like chocolate. He himself hates ice cream, which, Merlin would like to point out, is at least equally disturbing.

Merlin finds out that Arthur loves to be tied up, although he doesn't love admitting it (he has, though, and they've done it more than once). Merlin is a master of dirty talk, and he loves exploring the variety of reactions he can get out of Arthur by just _speaking_ , just _telling him_ things. Arthur likes kissing and nibbling at Merlin's earlobes, and Merlin has no objections whatsoever. They have this thing with sucking each other off in public places, and it's kind of a competition, although neither of them knows who's winning anymore. The sex is always the best after a fight, but Merlin would still prefer his life without them.

Getting to know each other means "I know what you like or hate, your strengths and weaknesses, every little quirk of yours, and all of that makes me love you even more". In their case, it also means "I know precisely how to make you hate yourself, and I have twenty ways to hurt you and make you hate me, too". And it's easy, hurting someone who loves you, because nothing matters to them like what you think of them. They both know this. So they figure out every single weak spot or insecurity there is to know about the other. Arthur succesfully makes his attacks more vicious with well-considered insults. Merlin's tongue grows sharp and cruel; his magic swift and almost impossible to notice.

Merlin is pretty sure that things seem perfectly fine between them to everyone else. And they are, most of the time. The only problem is that it isn't enough, and whatever happens when it's not _most of the time_ is eating him up and changing his life, and certainly not for the better. Every day, he catches himself lying to Gwen or Gwaine (or Lance, or Percy, or his mother, or Freya, or just about anyone he knows, really). The only person who isn't listening to his bullshit is Leon. Merlin won't bother; Leon wouldn't believe him. He isn't sure if the rest of them are buying it, either, but they haven't said anything, not yet. So he pretends they have no idea.

Sometimes - more often than not - Merlin can't fall asleep next to Arthur. Sometimes it gets too much even when he's alone in his own bed, locked away from the rest of the world. He doesn't leave Arthur, he doesn't want to, but it doesn't mean he never thinks about it. He loves Arthur, he really does, and he doesn't want to hurt him, not really, but he still sometimes wonders how things would be if he could just let it go and move on.

This is how things are, but it doesn't mean he doesn't want it to change.

 _I want things to change._

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics: Coldplay - Death And All His Friends
> 
> One more coming up. I think it's the last one.


End file.
